


The Cure

by Hammish



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Boss and Employee Hijinks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Murder, Sickness, researcher - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammish/pseuds/Hammish
Summary: Research defines Xavier E. Ware’s life, and death shapes the life of the city he lives in.
Kudos: 1





	The Cure

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for checking out my story! Although this isn't fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it!

The light of the dying sun painted the city of towering skyscrapers an orange hue; storm clouds rested forebodingly on the horizon. The luminous street lights used in the evening switched on, signaling that it was time for all Value of Vigor employees to return home. Xavier E. Ware, the company’s leading researcher for the last six years, filed away his papers and stuffed his few belongings into a worn black suitcase.

He scrutinized his pristine white-washed office one last time before stepping into the hallway, locking the door behind him. Xavier turned, and it was only thanks to his fast reflexes that he avoided knocking over his boss, Jarold Noc. Xavier grimaced. Despite their after-hours arrangement, Mr. Noc was the last person he wanted to see…ever.

Mr. Noc had founded Value of Vigor as a way to help combat the rising sick population. The company spearheaded many state of the art treatments and manufactured products that made everyone’s lives easier. However, as noble as Noc’s cause was, Xavier found the man lacked tact and was incredibly off-putting. At any given moment, one could find Noc staring off into space or muttering under his breath. In regular conversation, the man would always manage to steer the topic towards something taboo or private. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Xavier wondered if there was still time to escape.

His hopes were shattered by a high-pitched voice smugly stating, “Xavier, heading home I see.”

The building was not yet completely empty; anyone could overhear them. Xavier decided to deal with the problem civilly and hoped that nothing worse than his latest report would be discussed. “Yes. I assume you are doing the same.”

“In fact, I am not,” his boss replied.

The conversation had already taken a turn for the worst.

“Oh. Are you meeting someone?” Xavier tentatively asked.

“No. I’m planning on acquiring more _materials_ tonight.”

There were always problems when Mr. Noc acquired materials, and he did an even worse job of disposing of the unnecessary bits. “Uh… Good for you.”

“For you as well.”

“Yeah…”

Xavier was more than capable of gathering his own resources for his experiments and had already done so a few nights ago. It was always good to have more materials though. However, Xavier really wanted to go home. He hoped Mr. Noc was picking up on his reluctance to continue discussing this and would have mercy.

After a pause, Mr. Noc’s face lost its jovial smile. “When will it be ready for use?”

Xavier knew exactly what he was talking about and gulped. “Well, I’ve been working on it for a while now, and I’ve made good progress.”

“Heads will roll unless you keep your nose to the grindstone,” chortled Mr. Noc as his grin returned.

“You know I’ll keep working hard, boss.”

With a friendly clap on the back, Mr. Noc said, “I’ll see you later with the _materials_ , Xavier. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Mr. Noc.”

Xavier remained as composed as possible as he quickly walked away from his eccentric boss. He let out a sigh of relief when the metal doors of the elevator slammed shut and the expected patronizing music played. Crossing the nearly empty lobby, he nodded to the receptionist. His gesture was not returned, however, since her focus was on the waiting room television that continued to blare. He glanced over to see what had her so enraptured and froze.

Red and blue police lights blazed behind a reporter. In white block letters, the words “Warning: More dead have been found with organs removed. Several more have been reported missing” rolled across the bottom of the screen. The serial killer was still on the loose, and it looked like the cops still didn’t have any concrete leads.

Xavier looked outside and groaned. _Not good._

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain cascaded from the sky, and the far-off thunder only made everything seem more ominous. Xavier regretted his decision to walk to work today, and worse, he had no umbrella. _Curse his boss for holding him up!_

Taking a deep breath, Xavier exited the building and began to run. He needed to get home. The serial killer on the loose was only the tip of the iceberg. His life had been getting crazier ever since Eleanor, his wife, died five years ago from the fatal epidemic that had overtaken the city. Back then, a vaccine still had not been found. He wished there had been something, anything, he could have done. Her pale, lifeless face, which haunted his dreams, only served as a gruesome reminder of his failure. Good thing he didn’t have much need for sleep anymore.

Frigid droplets pelted his back like a hoard of angry wasps. Wind whipped in torrents around him, and the howling was deafening. Someone could be standing a few feet in front of him without him knowing. The murky darkness was an impenetrable mass, lit sporadically by streaks of lightning.

Distant, dying screams of faceless individuals entered the unholy chorus. The serial killer seemed to be keeping his nose to the grindstone as well. He began to sprint, dipping into the last reserves of his stamina. He turned down the empty street that led to his ranch-style home. It was a lonely neighborhood with few residents, and it seemed even more lifeless than usual tonight.

With a crash of thunder, Xavier breathlessly flung open the door to his humble abode. A few moments later, lightning streaked across the sky; the flash illuminating the bodies strung up throughout his living room. The old materials were only beginning to undergo rigor mortis. He cursed as another crash sounded outside. He had been so sure the formula would work today; they were so close to breaking the boundaries of life and death.

 _Oh well._ There was always later when Mr. Noc brought fresh materials and took these ones away. He might as well salvage whatever he still could from them. He needed to keep up his end of their arrangement after all. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a surgeon’s scalpel.

He looked over at the beautifully framed picture of Eleanor that had been enshrined near the door. It was like she was welcoming him home.

“Honey, I’ll be working from home again tonight.”


End file.
